


78 Days To Show You I Love You

by tomlintops



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Harry, Cheating, Crying Louis, Harry and Louis fight a lot, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Smut, Top Louis, marriage problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:47:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlintops/pseuds/tomlintops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au: louis cheats on harry on a wild night out. he does everything he can to make it up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this plot because I was bitter about the whole _Louis being a dad_ thing. Yes, Louis does cheat with Briana in this. No, he does not end up getting her pregnant. No, she's not going to be a major character in the story. She's going to be mentioned _maybe_ once or twice, and she'll probably (most likely not) play a part in like one chapter. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this, I promise promise _promise_ I won't abandon this like I've done with some of my other fics. 
> 
> I understand this is short, but it's just a tester to see how you guys feel about it and if you want me to continue. I didn't want to make the first chapter too lengthy if no one ended up liking it. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you'd like! :)
> 
> Follow me on twitter: @miniaturelwt

Blue eyes met green and their love was instant. From the very first time they met, they knew that they were made for each other. It started out with midnight phone calls and gentle touches. The next minute it was stolen kisses and sincere _I love you_ ’s. And, before they knew it, they were both standing at the altar and saying _I do._

They both knew how stupid it was, getting married at such a young age, Harry being only nineteen and Louis twenty-two. They’d only known each other for seven months. They didn’t care. They ignored all of the naysayers, shut out everyone who told them they wouldn’t make it, and went with their hearts. They were young, they were in love, the only thing that mattered was _them,_ and how _they_ felt about each other. As long as the both of them were on board with the idea, then _why the hell not_?

They went to the courthouse and got a marriage license and got married the _exact same day._ They didn’t want to wait any longer; they’d already waited long enough. They were just ready to spend the rest of their lives with each other already.

Two and a half years down the road and they’re still laughing at the people who said they’d never make it more than six months, because _guess what:_ they did.  Two and a half years later and they’re still growing strong, still finding ways to fall in love with each other more and more each day. They’re both the happiest they’ve ever been, and they wouldn’t want to change a single thing about what they’ve done.

There’s a saying that everything happens for a reason, well _this_ is their reason. This _love_ is their reason.

But there’s also a saying that all great things must come to an end.

\--

It’s one o’clock in the morning when Louis finally gets home. Harry has been sitting on the couch, in front of the television for what seems like hours. He turned it off about an hour ago, the background noise too much to handle for him. He’s been worried sick. Louis has never stayed out this late without at least calling. Harry has been calling him and _calling him_ all night and he finally gave up after getting sent straight to voicemail for the hundredth time.

He’s sitting on the couch in complete darkness; the only light in the house being the light from the front porch peeking through the curtains. He’s holding a now cold cup of tea in his hands, not a sip has been drunken from it, he’s too worried to stomach anything right now. He’s staring blankly at the wall, thinking about where in the world his husband could be, when he slips through the door.

He can tell that Louis thinks he’s asleep. He’s trying his hardest to be quiet, probably trying not to wake Harry up. Little does he know.. Harry hears Louis slip off his shoes by the front door and start tiptoeing across the living room floor.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks into the darkness.

“ _Jesus,_ fuck!” Louis exclaims. There is shuffling and then the living room light is turning on. “What the hell, H?”

“I asked you a question.” Harry states firmly. “Where have you been?”

Louis sighs in exasperation, “I was at Zayn’s. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not _fine,_ Lou!” Harry almost yells. “I’ve been calling you all night, I’ve been worried sick!” He knows he probably sounds like an overdramatic housewife, but he doesn’t care. It’d be nice if he knew where his husband was every once in a while.

“You’ve been- what?” Louis says in confusion. He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and presses the power button on the top of it, only for the screen to remain black. He sighs again, “It must’ve gone dead. I didn’t even notice. I should’ve called at least once, I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Harry agrees with him. “But, it’s okay.” He sends him a small smile, one that Louis returns to him. Louis starts heading up the stairs without another word but Harry stops him. “What were you doing over there so late?” He asks out of genuine curiosity.

Louis turns around but doesn’t make eye contact with Harry. “I just needed to talk to him about something, no big deal.”

“Talk to him about what?”

“It’s nothing,” Louis chuckles uncomfortably. “Don’t worry about it.”

_What?_ “Don’t worry about it? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Lou?”

“Exactly what I said!” Louis exclaims, throwing his arms in the air. “ _Fuck,_ you don’t need to know about everything that my friends and I talk about.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows in both confusion and concern. He’s only seen Louis get worked up like this a couple of times since they’ve been together. It’s usually when he’s trying to keep something from Harry. “What’s going on, Louis?”

“Nothing,” Louis laughs exasperatedly. Harry doesn’t miss it when he blinks his eyes quickly and the way his jaw clenches slightly. Something he only does when he’s trying to keep himself from crying.

Harry stands up from the couch and walks over to where his husband is standing. He takes his face in his hands, trying to get Louis to look at him. Louis’ face crumples and he looks up at Harry with tear filled eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and looks down again and shakes his head.

“For what, baby?” Harry asks softly, confused as to why Louis is crying.

Louis lets out a sob at the endearment and covers Harry’s hands with his own on his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Louis…tell me what’s wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to, I promise.” Louis sobs, not listening to anything that Harry is saying.

Harry takes his hands away from Louis’s face, but Louis is quick to grab them and hold on to them. Harry stares at him expectantly and waits for him to speak.

“At Z’s birthday party last week, we all went out; him, Liam, Calvin and I.” Harry nods in confusion because he _knows_ this. He knows that Louis went out with some friends last weekend, so why is he telling him this? “I got- I was drunk. I was _so fucking drunk,_ Harry. And, I- I promise you I didn’t mean to.”

Harry’s face falls and his eyes widen in realization. He yanks his hands out of Louis’ and backs away, looking him up and down.

“Harry, you _know_ how I get when I’m drunk.” Louis says, taking a step towards Harry.

Harry takes another step back and shakes his head. “No, you’re- you wouldn’t do that to me. Stop lying to me.” He denies, praying silently to any God that is listening that this is _not_ actually happening to him right now.

“It was one time, I swear.” Louis says desperately. “You have to be-“

“Was he good?” Harry asks bitterly. “I mean, if you fucked another guy, I at least want to know if you enjoyed yourself.”

Louis averts his eyes and hangs his head.

“Tell me,” Harry grits, his voice trembling.

Louis shakes his head and looks back up to Harry, tears rushing down his cheeks. “I didn’t- it wasn’t-” he can’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to. Harry already knows what he’s going to say.

Harry’s sure that his expression turns to one of disgust as he looks at the man- no, the _coward_ standing in front of him. “Get out.”

“ _Harry,_ ” Louis sobs desperately. “Please don’t do this, I-“

“ _Get out!”_ He screams, pointing to the front door.

Louis’ hands fly up to his mouth and he clenches his eyes shut and shakes his head frantically. _He fucked up._

Harry pushes past him and up the stairs and straight to their room. Louis follows quickly behind him and when he gets to their doorway he sees Harry pulling a suitcase from their closet and throwing it on their master bed. He starts angrily pulling clothes from their hangers and tossing them into the suitcase. Louis just stands frozen in his spot. _This is not happening._

When Harry starts grabbing Louis’ personal items from their dresser and putting them in the suitcase, Louis finds himself running over and pulling things out at the same time that Harry is continuing to put stuff in. When Harry doesn’t stop, Louis grabs his hands in his own.

“Stop, please!” He begs.

Harry is glaring at him. There is no trace of softness or love or just anything _Harry._ All Louis can see is hate and disgust. “Please don’t do this,” Louis whimpers.

Harry yanks his hands from Louis’ for the second time that night and Louis’ whole body instantly feels cold. He doesn’t move, just continues glaring at Louis. When he finally speaks, his words are cold. Louis’ never heard Harry use this tone with anyone before. Especially him.

“I’m giving you ten minutes to pack your shit up and to get your ass out of my goddamn house.” He growls and walks out of their room without another word.

It’s when he gets downstairs is when he lets himself go. He sits on the couch and brings his knees up to his chest and just _cries._ He can’t believe this. The man he’s loved since the first time he saw him, the man he has literally given his heart and soul to, cheated on him. And, to make matters worse, it was with a _girl._

Before Louis met Harry, he’d dated plenty of girls. He was the type to fuck a girl and leave them the next second with no strings attached. When he met Harry, that all changed. He changed his ways; he changed his perspective on everything. He changed because he’d finally found someone to _love him._ Harry had been insecure at the beginning of their relationship, scared that Louis was going to leave him at any second because he’d figured out he didn’t want to be with a guy after all. It never happened. Louis promised him it never would; he would never go back to his old ways. And Harry believed him.

And then _this_ happens.

Harry knows that Louis has been off for the past couple of days, but he didn’t think anything of it – just thought that he was stressed from long hours at work. He never expected something like this, not in a million years. Louis is constantly reminding him how much he loves him and how much Harry means to him, so Harry is completely baffled as to _why_ Louis would do this to him. To their _marriage._

Harry hears footsteps coming down the stairs and he straightens himself out and wipes his face of tears. He grabs his laptop that is sitting next to him and opens it and places it on his lap to make it look like he’s concentrating on something on the screen. When really, his mind is running a million miles an hour with thoughts and images of Louis with someone that’s _not him._ He tries his hardest to keep his face neutral when he sees Louis enter the room out of the corner of his eye. He can’t let Louis see him cry right now, he _can’t._

No more than ten seconds later, Harry’s computer is being removed from his lap and a small body is replacing it. Harry doesn’t say anything to him, doesn’t even look at him. He can’t, because he knows he’ll break as soon as he looks into Louis’ eyes. Two small hands are grabbing his face and tilting it up, trying to get Harry to look at him, but Harry does his best at keeping his eyes anywhere but Louis’.

“Please, look at me.” Louis whispers as he presses his forehead against Harry’s.

Harry should be pushing him away, should be screaming at him to get out and to never come back. But, he _can’t._ Louis’ body on top of Harry’s is too warm, too comforting, and too familiar. No matter how much hate Harry is feeling right now, he _needs_ this. He needs to pretend, even just for a second, that none of this is happening, that his world isn’t falling apart around him with every second that passes by.

“Baby,” Louis whimpers when Harry doesn’t look at him.

Harry clenches his jaw to keep himself from crying, but it doesn’t work. A single tear falls from his eye and he lifts his hand up to angrily wipe it away.

“Please, don’t cry.” Louis begs sadly. “I’m sor-”

Harry pushes Louis’ hands away and starts to stand up, causing Louis to move off of his lap. He can feel Louis watching him as he passes by and into the kitchen. He walks over to the sink and grabs a cup and fills it with water, but he doesn’t drink it. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach anything right now, not after what he just found out. He grips the edge of the counter until his knuckles turn white, but he doesn’t let go, no matter how much it hurts. Anything is better than what he’s feeling inside right now. For the past twenty minutes, he’s felt like his legs are going to give out at any moment, like the ground is going to open up underneath him and swallow him whole. He doesn’t know what to do.

Harry hears the kitchen door open behind him, but he doesn’t turn around.  

What seems like hours, but could possibly be minutes, pass by and Louis speaks up.

“I’m not leaving,” he says, his voice noticeably shaking. “I’ll give you your space, because I know that’s what you need. But, I am _not_ leaving you. I am _not_ giving up on this marriage, and I am sure as hell not giving up on you. I know I fucked up, I know, but that does not change the fact that I love you. I love you so much, and I am _sorry,_ I don’t know how many times I can say that to you. And, I know a simple apology isn’t enough, it’s far from enough. You deserve _way more_ than an apology, and that’s what I’m going to give you. I don’t care how long it takes, I am going to _fight_ for you, and I am going to fight for this marriage. You can hate me as much as you want, but I am not leaving this house. I’m going to stay here and do whatever I can to show you how sorry I am.”

Harry thinks about turning around and yelling at Louis, telling him to just _get the hell out of my house._ But, he doesn’t. He contemplates Louis’ words for a minute and nods to himself. “Okay,” is all he says.

He hears Louis let out a sigh of relief. Harry turns around, still not looking Louis in the eye.

“You can start by making yourself a bed on the couch. I would suggest making yourself comfortable because you’re going to be there for a while.” He states, walking past Louis and out of the kitchen without a glance behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make every chapter a different day but then I realized that 78 chapters is waaaay too long and would take me literally a year to write, so I'm just going to put up to 3-4 days in a chapter (depending on how long a day is); it'll help me finish this faster and will also make the chapters longer than they would be if they were only one day. 
> 
> Updates will be once a week, if not twice. It depends on how busy I am that week, but I promise you will get at least one update a week.
> 
> P.S. around the 17-30 of September, updates might be a little slow because I'm starting college and moving into my dorm and everything. But, I promise that I will get them up as soon as possible.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you'd like, I really appreciate it! :)
> 
> Follow me on twitter: @miniaturelwt

 Day One:

 

Louis wakes up and stretches, taking a deep breath in and letting it out with a groan. He tries to roll onto his left side to reach over to Harry's side of the bed and is confused when his hand doesn't touch bare skin, but is stopped short by a suede cushion. He furrows his brow and his eyes flutter open and he is met with the back cushion of the couch in their living room.  _Right._ _  
_

Louis runs a hand over his face and rolls over to his back and stares up at the ceiling. Last night actually happened. Him finally coming clean to Harry about sleeping with someone else, a  _girl_ to be exact, after keeping it from him for over a week. Harry screaming at him to get out of the house. Louis  _begging_ Harry to let him stay and make it up to him. Louis doesn't think he's ever been more desperate for something in his life. Harry crying, and Louis being the person to make him cry. That literally tears him apart, knowing that he was the reason for Harry's tears, even if it was just one. Louis' sure there was more once Harry was locked away in their bedroom. 

He  _needs_ to make this better. He needs to save this relationship, because he doesn't know what he'd do without Harry. As cliche as it sounds, Harry makes him a better person. Ever since he and Harry met, he's been a different person. He doesn't know what it was, but the moment he looked into Harry's eyes, he needed to change. And, he did. But...he slipped up. He wants to say that this is just a bump in the road, that they'll get over this soon enough. But, it's way more than that. 

He needs to do whatever he can to show Harry that he can trust Louis again. 

Louis lets out a breath and finally finds the energy to push himself off of the couch. He comes up with the idea to cook Harry's favorite breakfast before he has to go to work. He knows that it'll make him seem like a kiss-ass, but...he has to start somewhere, right? 

He ventures into the kitchen and looks at the time on the microwave and is surprised to see that it's only fifteen minutes until six. Harry should be getting up in a half an hour. Louis gathers up all of the ingredients he needs to make blueberry pancakes, bacon and eggs. He preheats the oven to the correct temperature and starts making the pancake batter from scratch. When the oven beeps twice, indicating that it's heated, he distributes the bacon evenly onto a baking pan, adding a little water and throws it into the oven, the way the Harry likes it cooked. He pulls out a skillet and turns on the stove, setting it to medium temperature. He goes and adds a little bit more water to the pancake batter when he sees that it's too lumpy, throws a couple of blueberries in, and adds a generous amount to the skillet and lets it cook for a couple of minutes. He takes a bowl out of the cupboard and cracks three eggs into it, scrambling them up with a fork. He grabs another skillet from the cabinet and sets it on the stove, pouring the egg mix into it. He adds some salt and pepper, but not too much because Harry always  _insists_ that too much pepper is bad for you. 

Louis continues cooking breakfast for the next twenty minutes and prepares his and Harry's plates, giving Harry extra eggs and bacon because Louis knows how much he likes them. Right when he's setting their plates on the table, Louis hears heavy feet stomping down the stairs. Harry walks into the kitchen in nothing but a black pair of joggers hanging low on his hips, rubbing his eyes with his fists - something that Louis finds so endearing, it's hard for him to look away. 

Harry walks straight to the coffee pot, not even acknowledging Louis' existence. Louis guesses that's fair, though. 

Louis clears his throat, but Harry doesn't budge, just continues making his usual morning drink. Louis runs a hand through his hair and sighs, "I, uh- I made you breakfast." 

Harry stops his movements and Louis sees him glance over at the dining room table. He nods but doesn't say anything else, just takes his fresh cup of coffee and silently makes his way to the table. Louis follows behind him and sits down across the table from him. He looks at Harry, waiting for him to start eating but Harry just stares at his plate for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat. "Uh, fork?" He says without looking up at Louis.

"Oh! Right," Louis scrambles to get up and grab them both some forks. He places Harry's on his plate, Harry mumbling out a  _thanks._ Louis sits down and they both start eating. 

The next ten minutes are the most awkward ten minutes that Louis' ever experienced in his life. More awkward than the time that one of Harry's co-workers walked in on Louis being bent over Harry's work desk with Harry's tongue in his arse. More awkward than  _that._

The two men eat in silence, Louis taking longing glances at his husband the whole time, wishing that Harry would look back. Louis jumps when Harry abruptly scrapes his chair across the hardwood floor. He takes notice that Harry only ate one of his pancakes and only a handful of eggs and bacon. Harry always eats all of his food, and almost  _always_ goes for seconds. Louis can't help but think that Harry refused to eat all of his food because he couldn't stand to be sat at the same table as Louis. He pushes that thought away and continues eating his breakfast, listening as Harry makes his way upstairs and into the shower to get ready for work. 

Louis cleans up the kitchen as soon as he's finished and runs up to his and Harry's room and throws on some clean clothes. He dresses in a simple pair of black skinnies and a white t-shirt that swoops down to just below his collarbones, showing off the top of his  _It Is What It Is_ tattoo. He throws on a beanie over his head, not bothered enough to try and fix his hair. He shoots Liam a quick text, making sure he's awake. When Liam finally answers twenty minutes later, Louis pokes his head inside the bathroom where Harry is still taking a shower.  _  
_

Before giving himself time to think about what he's saying, Louis calls out into the bathroom, "Babe."

He realizes what he says when Harry doesn't respond to him. Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Harry," he tries again. 

"Yeah," Harry responds after slight hesitation. 

"I'm heading off to Liam's, I'll be back later tonight." 

Harry just hums his acknowledgement, so Louis just takes that as an _okay_ and slips back into their bedroom to grab his cellphone. He jogs downstairs, slips on a pair of black vans sitting by the front door, grabs his car keys from the hook by the door and heads off to Liam's. 

\--

Liam answers the door still in his sleepwear, a plaid flannel pajama bottoms and, even though he most likely put it on after he woke up, a black t-shirt. He steps to the side and lets Louis in, offers him a drink or something to eat to which Louis replies with a simple  _no, I just ate, thanks._

Louis goes straight to Liam's couch and immediately drops his head into his hands. He doesn't start crying, no - he already did enough of that the night before. He just takes deep breaths and prepares himself for what he is going to tell Liam. 

"What's going on, mate?" Liam asks, taking a seat next to Louis on the couch. 

Louis lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head. He lets out a breath and straightens himself out, looking Liam in the eye. "I did something; something that I'm not proud of. And, I just," Louis lets out another laugh, even though nothing about this is funny. "I don't- I don't know what to do." 

"So...you came to me?" Liam asks, confused. Not that he has a problem with helping Louis, but the two of them have never really been close. He and Louis met through Harry at the beginning of Harry and Louis' relationship. They hangout from time to time, but they wouldn't really consider themselves  _best friends._

"I mean, I  _know_ it's strange, but-" Louis chuckles. "I tried talking to Zayn about it and the only advice he had was to smoke one and forget about it." Louis shakes his head at the same time that Liam rolls his eyes, because that sounds _exactly_ like something that Zayn would say. "I can't do that. Not this time." He says, casting his head down.

Liam furrows his brow, "this seems serious. What happened?" 

Louis takes a deep breath, "do you remember when we went out for Z's birthday?"

Liam nods, "of course I remember, Zayn got so wasted that he talked to an empty barstool for a good fifteen minutes, and then afterwards, proceeded to tell me how  _good he is with the ladies._ " He rolls his eyes again. 

Louis tries to laugh at the memory but the only thing that comes is a strangled sob. His hand flies up to cover his mouth to try and muffle his sobs - he's never really been one for crying in front of people. "I fucked up," he says into his hand. Tears start involuntarily falling from his eyes and just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Liam puts an arm around his shoulder and Louis just- he  _lets go._

Louis turns his body into Liam's and buries his face into his chest. Aside from his mum, he's never done this with  _anyone_ but Harry, because Harry's the only one he's ever trusted enough not to judge him for it. Louis lets everything out, everything he's been feeling the last twelve hours. He  _hates_ this feeling. The feeling of knowing that he's the reason for Harry's broken heart, the feeling of knowing that Harry is disappointed in him, the feeling of knowing that  _he_ is the reason for Harry's tears. 

"Hey, hey," Louis hears Liam trying to soothe him. "Whatever happened, it's gonna be okay." 

"No, it's not." Louis sobs. " _He hates me!_ " 

"Who hates you?" Liam asks confusingly. "Zayn? He'll get over it, don't worry about that." 

Louis shakes his head. "I fucked up," he repeats his words from earlier once his sobs have died down. "God, I fucked up  _so_ bad, Liam." 

Liam waits patiently for him to continue, realizing that asking questions isn't going to give him an answer any faster. 

"I- I cheated on him." Louis hiccups. Liam's eyes widen and he pulls his body away from Louis'. Louis straightens himself out as well and closes his eyes. "I cheated on my husband. I cheated on the love of my life. I cheated on the one  _fucking_ thing that matters to me in this world." He opens his eyes and looks over to Liam, who is still staring at him with wide eyes. "Why would I do that?" 

"You're joking. Please tell me you're joking. Tell me that this is one of your sick pranks. Anything. But, please,  _do not_ tell me that you- you cheated on Harry." 

"I was so fucking wasted, I didn't realize what I was doing, and the next thing I know, I just-" 

"You just, what? Had your cock in him?" Liam says angrily.

"Liam, please." Louis looks at him with pleading eyes. He  _knew_ this was going to happen, he knew that Liam was going to take Harry's side. "I'm not saying you can't be mad, because you have every right to be. But, I just- I need someone to talk me through this." Louis can feel his eyes prickling with tears. "I don't know what to do, I don't know how to fix this. So, please, just for ten minutes, tell me what to do, tell me how to get my husband back. I'm begging you." 

Liam glares at him for a couple more seconds before his expression softens slightly, "okay." Louis lets out a breath of relief. "Did you tell him?"

Louis nods and sniffles. "I told him last night." 

"And, what happened? What did he say?" 

"He kicked me out-"

"Good on him," Liam interrupts. 

"-but, I told him I wasn't leaving." Louis finishes, ignoring his comment.  

"And, he was okay with that?" Liam asks, even though he already knows the answer. Harry is too nice for his own good. 

Louis nods, "I mean, he's making me sleep on the couch, but...it's better than nothing."

The two men sit in silence. Louis wracking his brain, trying to figure out how in the hell he's going to fix all of this, and Liam trying to figure out how this could have happened - Louis and Harry were  _perfect._

"He won't- he won't look at me. He won't talk to me unless he absolutely has to, and I just..." Louis trails off, sighing. "I can't handle it."

Liam wants to make some snarky comment about how  _well maybe you shouldn't have cheated on him,_ but he doesn't. He told Louis that he would help him, and that's exactly what he is going to do. He lets out a breath before speaking. "You need to give him time." He explains. He holds up his hand when Louis starts to protest. "Listen. You can't push him to do anything. If he doesn't want to talk to you, don't make him." 

"If he won't talk to me, how am I supposed to fix anything?" 

"Let  _him_ come to  _you._ Pushing him to do something he doesn't want to do is only going to make him pull himself away from you more." Liam lets out an exasperated sigh when Louis looks at him confusedly. "Louis, you  _hurt_ him." 

"Wow, thanks for reminding me." Louis mutters. 

Liam refrains from rolling his eyes. "He's hurt. He needs to take his own time to cope with this. You need to understand that he is the victim in this situation, he feels betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust. You need to give him space, or it's just going to make everything worse. He needs to learn how to trust you again."

"And, how long is that going to take?" Louis asks rhetorically. 

"You never know with Haz," LIam answers anyways. "But, until that time comes, you need to respect him and his decisions. Don't rush him into anything."

\---

 

Day Two:

 

Louis' alarm rings from his phone on the end table beside the couch. He reaches his hand above his head and over the arm of the couch in search for the device. When his hand comes into contact with it, he brings it in front of his face and turns off the alarm, groaning at the time on the screen.  _6:50 A.M._

He kicks the blankets off of his body as he stretches, grunting as all of the bones in his back pop at once. It's only been two nights on the couch, and he's already having back pains. He thinks about setting another alarm and sleeping for another twenty minutes, but he knows that he really shouldn't. Even though his boss loves him, he really doesn't like taking advantage of that fact by being late to work. 

He gets up and walks up the stairs, stopping by their hallway cupboard and grabbing a towel and a washcloth. He walks into his and Harry's room, not even thinking about his actions at the moment. 

Suddenly a body is colliding with his own and Louis is jumping back and looking down, only to be met with Harry's naked body. Louis' first reaction is to cover his eyes. He shakes his head frantically, "I am so sorry, I don't- I didn't realize that you were already awake. I didn't mean to- you know what?" He takes his hands away from his face and the first place his eyes wander to is  _down._ "Okay," he breathes, looking up, but not at Harry's face. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, "I'm just gonna- I'll just go down the hall and shower. It's not- it's no big deal. You can just-" he looks down again and clenches his eyes shut, shaking his head. "Yeah," he breathes, turning on his heel and scurrying to the bathroom down the hall, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He leans against the door, letting out a breath and closing his eyes.

He doesn't know what's more embarrassing, the fact that  _that_ just happened, or the fact that it's only seven in the morning and he's already hard. 

\---

 

Day Three:

 

Louis is laying on the couch after work, watching tv, when he hears a yelp come from upstairs. He scrambles off the couch and takes the stairs two at a time until he gets to the landing. He jogs into his and Harry's room and sees him standing on their bed with wide eyes. 

"What's wrong?" Louis breathes. 

Harry doesn't say anything, just points to one of his shirts spread out on the floor. Louis furrows his brow in confusion and walks over to the shirt. He points at it and looks at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry nods silently. Louis grabs the shirt and as soon as he picks it up, out comes a spider about the size of the palm of his hand. "Shit!" He exclaims, jumping back. Now he understands why Harry screamed, he is  _terrified_ of spiders. 

Louis goes into their closet and grabs an empty shoebox - god bless Harry for being a hoarder and keeping literally  _everything._ He walks over to the spider before it can get under the bed and slams the shoebox down on top of it. If he were alone, he would've just grabbed a shoe and smashed it, but even though Harry is deathly afraid of spiders he still believes that  _they are living, breathing creatures, they deserve to live just as much as we do._ Louis lifts up the corner of the box slightly and carefully slides the lid under it. He picks up the shoebox and walks over to the window, opening it and releasing the spider from the shoebox. 

He closes the window and puts the box back into the closet. When he turns around, Harry is stepping down from the bed and daintily picking up his shirt and throwing it into the laundry bin with a shudder. He turns to Louis, but looks down to the floor. "Thank you," he murmurs. 

"It's no problem," Louis shrugs. He turns and starts to make his way out of their room when Harry says his name. Louis whips his head around, raising his eyebrows at his husband. 

Harry opens and closes his mouth, no sound coming out. He sighs and looks down again, "Nevermind." 

Louis purses his lips and nods, walking out of their room. He hopes that Harry will maybe call his name again and say what he was going to say. It never happens.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the wait. Getting ready for college is a bitch. I hope y'all like this! 
> 
> Leave a comment if you'd like! I'd really appreciate it :) 
> 
> Follow me on twitter: @miniaturelwt

 Day Four:

 

“Styles!”

Harry turns around, coffee in hand, to his name being called and sees one of his co-workers, Nick Grimshaw, jogging up to him. Harry smiles and walks to meet him halfway. The two men exchange their _hello’s_ and _how are you’_ s for the morning before Nick brings something up that Harry had completely forgot about.

“Are you and Louis still coming tonight?”

 _Right._ With everything that’s been happening in the past couple of days, Harry forgot about his own birthday in a couple of days. He also forgot that Nick said that he was taking Harry, Louis and a couple of friends from the office out for some drinks to celebrate Harry’s twenty-second birthday. He wonders if Louis remembers but just hasn’t mentioned anything.

Harry plasters on a fake smile. “Yeah, for sure. I wouldn’t miss it.”

\---

Harry walks through the door at half past six. He toes off his shoes and hangs up his trench coat by the door silently. He walks into the kitchen, like usual, to make himself a cup of evening tea (Louis assumes). No more than ten minutes later, Harry is walking out of the kitchen. But, instead of walking straight up the stairs and to their room, like he’s been doing for the last couple of days, he sits on the opposite side of the couch from Louis.

He takes a sip of tea from his mug and leans forward, placing it on the coffee table before turning to Louis and clearing his throat – almost as if he’s preparing himself for some sort of speech.

“I’m, uh- I’m not sure if you remember, but Nick is taking me, _us,_ out for drinks tonight. For my birthday.”

Louis did remember. He remembers Harry telling him not to long ago that one of his co-workers, Nick Grimshaw, made plans to take them, and a couple of other people from Harry’s work, out to celebrate Harry’s twenty-second birthday. He just never said anything to Harry, because with everything that’s been happening, he wasn’t even sure if Harry would have wanted to go anymore.

Louis nods. “I remember. We don’t have to, though,” he rushes out. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable with that. You can even just go by yourself, if you don’t want me to be there.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, I- we need to go. Together. If only I go, or if neither of us goes, it’ll raise suspicion and people will start asking unnecessary questions. We don’t need that. We don’t need people butting into our relationship.”

“I don’t-” Louis tries again, but Harry stops him.

“Be ready by nine,” he says, standing up with his cup of tea and going up to their room.

\---

“The Tomlinson’s!”

That’s the first thing Louis and Harry hear when they walk through the doors of the club.

Louis looks over to Harry, only to see him with his head cast down. Even with the dim lighting in the room, Louis can tell that Harry’s face is flushed.

Harry’s biggest weakness has always been being called a Tomlinson or even just Tomlinson’s in general. Even before the two of them got engaged, Harry was in love with the idea of being _Mr. Harry Tomlinson._ Sometimes, they got so caught up in it, that Louis would accidentally refer to Harry as a Tomlinson to people outside of their little bubble. It just _worked,_ their names together. Harry always got giddy at just the thought of taking Louis’ last name, and the day it finally happened, the day that they were named _Louis and Harry Tomlinson,_ well, that was the best day of Harry’s life.

It makes Louis happy knowing that, even with everything falling apart around them, being called a Tomlinson still makes Harry’s heart flutter.

Their friends, _Harry’s_ friends really, greet the two of them with hugs, all of them wishing an early happy birthday to Harry.

The night starts off with Nick buying a round of shots for all of them.  

Everything goes smoothly. Harry and Louis are keeping their distance from each other, but not too much to raise suspicion. Harry and Nick are sitting at the bar, drinking and having a laugh, while Louis is caught up in a conversation with a man that works with Harry, who goes by the name of Scott.

Two hours pass and before Louis knows it, he’s already on his ninth shot. It’s around this time that he usually starts getting sloppy with his actions. It’s also around this time that Harry has to take him home and put him to bed because he’s too drunk to function.

_Harry._

Louis’ eyes travel down the bar to where Harry is still engaging in conversation with Nick. He tunes out whatever Scott is trying to say to him and directs all of his attention towards Harry. He’s holding a glass in his hand, occasionally sipping on it, laughing at something that Nick is saying to him. Harry’s eyes are bright with laughter, dimples indenting his cheeks on either side of his face. Louis feels a pang in his chest at the thought that he hasn’t seen that smile in almost a week.

Louis is suddenly jumping out of his chair, leaving a confused Scott behind. He stumbles over to Nick and Harry mid-conversation, and just stands in between the two of them.

Harry’s smile immediately falls from his face as soon as his eyes make contact with Louis’. He looks up at him confusedly, tilting his head. “What’re you…” he trails off.

“Dance with me.” Louis says, holding his hand out.

Harry’s eyes move from Louis’ face down to his outstretched hand. He looks to Nick then back to Louis. “I don’t-” he shakes his head. “I’m fine, go back to whatever you were doing.” He tries to say as politely as possible.

Louis’ eyes become pleading and he reaches down and grabs Harry’s hand himself. “C’mon, just one dance.” He begs. “I love this song,” he says, even though he’s too drunk to process exactly what song is playing.

Harry’s eyes frantically move between Louis’ face and their hands. He purses his lips and finally lets out a sigh. “One song,” he says firmly. He doesn’t want this, he really doesn’t, but he knows that if he doesn’t dance with Louis at least once, Louis will just keep bothering him until he does.

Louis laughs giddily and pulls Harry out of his seat, dragging the both of them to the middle of the floor where a couple of other people are dancing. He turns so his back is facing Harry and backs up into him and starts grinding on him to the rhythm of the song playing around them. In any other state, Louis would be able to tell that Harry is uncomfortable – that he’s not going along with anything that Louis is doing, that he’s not grabbing Louis’ hips like he usually would. But, all of those thoughts escape Louis and he just dances like it’s nobody’s business.

Halfway through the song, Louis turns around and drapes his arms over Harry’s shoulders, still swaying his hips, his eyes closed. He grabs a handful of Harry’s hair and brings their faces closer. He can feel Harry’s warm breath on his mouth. He opens his own to say something, but nothing comes out. He leans forward to rest his forehead against Harry’s and licks his lips, taking his bottom one in between his teeth. He lets it go and tilts his head and–

His eyes open wide as he stumbles back, not bothering to apologize to the person currently yelling at him to _watch where you’re going._ He watches as Harry quickly – _angrily? –_ walks away from him and back towards the bar to where Nick is still sitting.

_Great._

\--

Day Five:

Louis wakes up with a groan, the first thing he feels being the pounding in his head. He drank _way_ too much last night. He rolls over, searching for the warmth of Harry’s body and the next thing he knows, he’s on the floor. He groans again, rubbing his head, but it doesn’t help get rid of the constant pounding in his skull.

Too lazy to climb back onto the couch, Louis lies on the floor and tries to recollect any memory of what happened the night before. He and Harry went out for drinks with some guys from Harry’s work. Louis got stuck in a boring conversation about _God knows what_ with one of Harry’s co-workers.

Louis’ eyes widen as he faintly remembers what happened next. “ _Shit,”_ he curses, dragging a hand down his face.

No amount of pancakes will get him out of this. He needs to man up and _talk_ to Harry about what happened.

He pushes himself up from the floor and slowly makes his way up the stairs to the master bedroom. He gets to the door, only to see it closed. Louis didn’t bother to see what time it was before he came up here. It could be six in the morning for all he knows. What if he wakes Harry up? If there’s one thing Harry hates most in the world – besides spiders – it’s being woken up.

He takes the chance anyways, because he knows if he doesn’t do this now, it’ll never get done.

He knocks on the door and waits a few moments before he hears Harry clear his throat and invite him into the room. Louis opens the door to see Harry sitting upright in their bed, curls pointing every which way, his eyes hooded. _I definitely woke him up,_ Louis thinks.

He clears his throat when he sees Harry looking at him expectantly. “Right, I uh- I don’t remember _exactly_ what happened last night, but I still remember parts, and so I just- I wanted to come up here to apologize. For my behavior. I was drunk, but that- that’s no excuse for what I did. I shouldn’t have pressured you like that.”

Harry just nods.

He _nods._ Nothing else.

Louis narrows his eyes at him. “Are you kidding me?” Harry doesn’t respond. “You- I get that you’re mad, trust me, I know that. You have _every_ right to be. I fucked up, _I know._ But, the only way that I am going to be able to fix this, is if you _talk to me._ This whole one-sided thing that we have going on here is not going to work.”

Harry averts his gaze down to the bed and starts playing with the duvet.

“It has been five days, _five days,_ Harry. Five days since we’ve had an actual conversation, five days since you’ve even _looked_ at me. I’m not saying that we have to sit down at the dinner table and talk about our lives every day, but something other than these one word answers that you’ve been giving me would be nice. And if you could actually look at me when we talk, that’d be nice, too. Baby, I-”

“Don’t.” Louis hears Harry whisper. “Do not call me that.”

“Baby,”

“ _Don’t_ call me that!” Harry yells, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. You lost the privilege to call me that when you decided to put your hands on another person.” He grits.

“I didn’t-”

“ _You hurt me!_ ” Harry screams over him, sobbing the last word. “Do you not realize that? I thought you loved me, I thought you cared about me! Do you know how much it hurts knowing that my _husband_ was out giving himself to someone else? _Do not_ act like you’re the victim in this situation, because you’re not, _I am!”_

Louis bites his lip to try to keep himself from crying, to try and keep himself from breaking down from seeing his husband this way. A single tear falls from his eye.

“Do not cry. You don’t get to cry, _you did this!_ You think that every time you turn on the waterworks, it’s going to make me fall to my knees and forgive you? That it’s going to make me forget that you _ruined our marriage!_ Well, think again, Louis. It’s going to take a lot more than some tears and some fucking pancakes to fix this.”

\--

Day Six:

Louis is woken up by the sound of keys clanging against glass. He opens his eyes to see Harry frozen in his spot, keys in his hand. He then notices that Harry is fully dressed, a fedora placed atop his head and a duffel bag swung over his shoulder. He sits upright suddenly and looks to the front door to see another duffle bag. He frantically looks back and forth from the bag to Harry.

He jumps up from the couch, stumbling a bit from getting up to quickly, and rushes over to the front door, unzipping Harry’s bag. He sees it packed with clothes, a cellphone charger and toothbrush placed neatly on top. He abandons the bag and runs over to Harry, grabbing his arm without thought.

“Where are you going?” Is the first thing he asks. “You’re not- you can’t leave. Harry, look, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday, but _please_ do not do this. We- we can talk this out, but please don’t leave me.” He begs, his voice shaking.

Harry looks down at Louis’ hand on his arm and looks back up to him. “I’m not leaving.” Louis lets out a sigh of relief. “I mean, I am. Obviously,” he says, gesturing to the bags by the door. “But not like- not like that. I’m going to my mum’s.”

“Oh.”

“I just- I need to get out of here. Away from this house, away from you. I need someone to talk to, and I don’t think a phone call is going to suffice.”

Louis nods and releases his grip from Harry’s arm. “I understand, that’s fine.”

Harry nods and makes his way to the front door. He picks up his other bag and slings it around his other shoulder. He opens the door and turns to Louis, “I’ll be back in a couple of days. Just- call me if something happens, or if you need anything.”

Louis nods and watches as Harry loads his car up and drives away.

\--

“Darling! What a surprise! What are you doing here?”

Harry hugs his mum tightly, tucking his face into her neck and breathing in her familiar scent. _Home._

Anne releases her son and steps to the side to let him in. She closes the door behind them and wanders to the kitchen to make the two of them a cup of tea while Harry puts his stuff in his childhood room.

“Where’s Robin?” Harry asks as he walks into the kitchen.

“Out getting some groceries, he should be back soon.” Anne smiles.

The both of them sit down on either side of the island, Anne looking thoughtfully at her son. “Not that I don’t love seeing you, dear. But, may I ask why you’re here? And where the other Mr. Tomlinson is?”

“He’s, uh- he’s at home.”

“And why is that, sweetheart?”

“I just needed to- to get away from everything for a couple of days.”

Anne hesitates. “Is everything alright between you two?” She asks, her voice a bit more worried.

Harry shakes his head and looks down. “Not really, no.” He sniffles. “We’re going through a bit of a rough patch.”

Anne coos sympathetically and grabs Harry’s hands in her own. “What’s going on, dear? Tell your mum.”

Harry hesitates before speaking. “He cheated on me,” he whimpers.

Anne gasps, her grip on Harry’s hands tightening. “He, what?”

Harry’s face crumples, “he cheated on me,” he repeats.

Before Harry knows it, his mums hands are gone from his own and her arms are making their way around his shoulders. He turns his head and buries it into her chest, letting out a heartbreaking sob.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Anne soothes, bringing one of her hands up to cup the back of Harry’s head. “How are you so sure of this?” She asks.

“He told me,” Harry sobs into her chest, his words muffled.

“He _told_ you, himself?” She gasps. Harry nods into her chest, letting out another choked sob.

Anne leaves it at that, and lets her boy let all of his tears out. They sit in that same position for a good thirty minutes before Harry’s sobs finally let up.            He pulls away hiccupping and wipes his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Sorry about that,” he apologizes.

“Don’t apologize; you needed to let that out.” She says, walking over to the forgotten tea kettle and refilling it with water, placing it back on the stovetop. She sits back down in her seat across the island from Harry and takes his hands back into hers. “Do you want to talk about it some more?”

Harry shrugs. “I just- I can’t even begin to process why he would do this.”

“When did it happen?” Anne asks softly.

“A couple of weeks ago, I guess. He said it happened at Zayn’s birthday party. And, you know what the worst part about it is? It was with a girl. A _girl,_ mum.” He scoffs and shakes his head.

“H, I told you from the beginning that boy was no good for you,” Anne starts.

“Mum, please.” Harry looks at her with pleading eyes. “Just for one minute, can you not say stuff like that? I came here because I needed someone to talk to, not to get lectured on who I decided to marry.”

Anne purses her lips but then lets out a sigh. She nods at her son, signaling for him to go on, letting him continue on with the story of the past week.

\--


End file.
